


Painting a Hole

by conniptionns



Series: Comb My Hair [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conniptionns/pseuds/conniptionns
Summary: Set 11 years after the books. Andrew is injured in-game and doesn't come away unscathed. He is forced to retire and Neil doesn't know how to comfort him, but he loves Andrew and is going to do whatever it takes to find the best way to meet his needs. How do you comfort someone who refuses to acknowledge they need comforting?





	1. Glorious Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 04-11-2017; Edited 03-14-2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back to edit this. It would be wonderful if you guys would comment with ideas for this story, because I'm stuck rewriting because I'm not sure how to move forward. Hoping to edit the next chapters very soon! The more suggestions I get, the faster I can put up chapter 5!

Fifteen minutes into the second half and the score was still tied. Neil was pushing himself like mad in the hopes that he could get around his mark. Their defense was on Neil and Jean like white on rice, but their offense couldn’t get past Andrew in the goal no matter what they did. Patience was waning and checks were getting rougher, and it took everything in Neil to shake his mark. A stray elbow and a shove when marks got too close to one another was common. The Cavaliers were out for blood, but the Devils weren’t going down without a fight. The game was becoming increasingly violent as the seconds ticked on.

A shove had Neil skidding across the floor, and he was immediately back in his mark’s face returning the favor. Being five-foot-three with a bad attitude sucked, because it meant that in order to move his mark he was going to have to do more than push back.

A fight had been boiling under the surface since before the end of the first half, and frankly, Neil was surprised no one had taken a swing. Whichever team started the fight would be penalized, and Neil’s team couldn’t justify crippling themselves in such a way when the game was so close.

Neil hadn’t taken a swing because it wasn’t just a game for him. It also wasn’t a metaphor for what he really loved and admired in life. It was more than that. It was life and death.

Ichirou Moriyama had standing box seats to every Devils game. Neil was certain that the only reason he was on the team with Kevin and Jean was because Ichirou owned them all. The only reassuring thing was that he always had Andrew at his back. Ichirou did Andrew no favors, but Kevin and Neil had enough sway of their own in the exy world to make things like that happen.

Having Andrew at his back always made him feel like he could give 110% in a game because Andrew was that steadying presence that kept Neil from crumbling under the pressure of having Lord Moriyama judging him once a week and sometimes more.

It was a waiting game. The clock ticked down and tensions rose until they crest like a dark wave and sent everyone on the court flying in a sea of boiling rage.

Neil didn’t have to wait for long. Jean’s mark went for the back of Jean’s knees, tapping him just hard enough to knock him on his ass. He was immediately on his feet, fists swinging. Jean’s mark was handed the first red card of the game and Jean was given a pass for the punches and a foul shot.

Jean made the goal, putting the Devils in the lead. The game restarted and things picked up speed once again. Jean’s mark made a shot on goal and, as expected, Andrew deflected it with ease and sent it flying down the court. Neil’s make left his eyesight for just a second, and before he could whirl around to find him, the buzzer went off, indicating a goal. Neil glanced sharply to his left and saw Kevin stopped, on the other end of the court, with the ball in his possession staring at Andrew in the goal.

Neil spun on his heel as quickly as possible to see what had happened, and saw Andrew slumped against the wall with the goal gone red around him. The sensors mistaking his body for the ball that was still in Kevin’s net.

Neil’s steps faltered. Fouling a goalkeeper was one of the most taboo practices in exy. It just wasn’t done. Their gear was made differently, it wasn’t made to take the brunt of another body coming at them with any amount of force. It was an act that rarely happened, but one that did happen and one that had happened to Andrew before.

The last time Andrew had been hit, Neil had gone in for the kill before he knew what was happening. This time he was unable to move, because Andrew wasn’t moving and his leg was jerked at a weird angle.

It was Jean that made that first move. He dropped his racquet and had his gloves off before Neil had remembered how to breathe. He rushed the striker, spitting furious French, but Neil wasn’t paying attention to what was being said or the fists that hard started flying or the fact that the fight now had at least half of both teams participating. He wasn’t aware of any of it. The only thing he was aware of was the fact that Andrew still wasn’t moving.

Neil took his first jerky steps forward, and Andrew jerked his chin up so he could level Neil with a look. Neil had been Andrew’s nothing for eleven years now and he was sure there was not one face Andrew had made that he wasn’t familiar with. He had seen humor, mischievous amusement, annoyance, and anger. There had been soft glances and hard glances. Andrew rolled his eyes a lot, and there was also the panicked look that showed the whites of his eyes and his pupils at a pinpoint after he had a nightmare. Neil had even seen pain, because after eleven years of sharing your pain with someone else, the face became familiar.

Neil was not familiar with this face. There was pain, but it was more than that. Andrew looked like he was dying; like he was mourning. Neil rushed to his side like there was nothing else in the world going on. He didn’t care that blood was being spilt ten feet away from him, or the fact that the referees were having trouble breaking up the fight. He didn’t even notice that the audience was dead silent. All Neil noticed was the look in Andrew’s eyes and the fact he had yet to move.

Neil dropped down to his knees, hard—grateful for his knee pads.


	2. Hard Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 06-16-2017; Edited 03-15-2018

The ride to the hospital was the longest trip of Neil’s life. He couldn’t get Andrew’s look of abject horror and pain out of his head. He would probably never forget the look that Andrew had for as long as he lived. It wasn’t even a look that Andrew had given, that would imply that Andrew had realized that there was anything other than whatever amounts of pain he was in while he laid there on the wood floor. As they rode to the hospital, Andrew was sedated because of the intense level of pain he was in, and while he lay on the stretcher, unmoving, Neil held his hand and relived every horror he had learned about in the twelve years since he met Andrew Minyard.

Andrew knew no shortage of pain in such a short amount of time. As the years wore on, the good years were beginning to outweigh the bad. That was something that, for eleven years, Neil had been able to be a part of daily—making the good moments outweigh the bad. Eleven years had spanned the eleven feet that had lied between them as Andrew was checked violently into the goal. Eleven was everything and nothing. Eleven was too much and not enough, not enough.

The first eleven minutes after EMS had arrived, Neil had been frantic but oddly calm as he fired one question after the other at the tall paramedic that was taking Andrew’s vitals. The answer that he kept receiving was that there was no way to properly assess the extent of the damage until they were at the hospital. Something was clearly broken or torn, but there was no way to discern because when the medic had gently probed at the skin around Andrew’s knees, Andrew blacked out from the pain. He came back around as he was being loaded into the ambulance, but due to the severe pain levels, they kept him sedated.

Neil didn’t remember if they put up a fuss when he had boarded the ambulance right alongside the paramedics. He didn’t remember speaking to anyone after he had ascertained that there was no new information that the woman had. Information that the athletic trainer had supplied with a cursory glance. Something that Neil himself knew to be true the moment he dropped to Andrew’s side.

There was something terribly wrong with Andrew’s knee, and Andrew’s knee was terribly important.

If Neil were a younger man, his concern would have been on how important that knee was to playing exy, but as he was no longer that young man, Neil’s only concern was seeing those hazel eyes filled with anything other than pain once again. There was something so very base and wrong about seeing a grown man in such elevated levels of distress; much more so for a man that you loved and had built your life around.

Neil’s whole world was literally held in his hands. The paramedics had let Neil sit behind the stretcher and keep Andrew’s head in between his hands, stroking every inch of the unconscious man’s face. They simply worked around him, keeping track of Andrew’s vitals and doing everything in their power to make this trip go as smoothly as possible.

Later Neil would question the veracity of how he first spoke to the paramedics that would allow him such leeway, considering that he was not family, blood or otherwise. Jean would tell him that the threats and promises had gotten him nowhere, but instead it was the firm hand of one Ichirou Moriyama that had allowed Neil to sit quietly, rocking in the seat next to an unconscious Andrew.

Where he was currently, none of those memories were cognizant or mattered. All that mattered was a doctor telling Neil, with no uncertainty, that Andrew would live. In the hustle from the ambulance to the emergency room, Neil began to pray to any deity that he remembered by name, calling on them to save Andrew or kill Neil in his stead. As x-rays and cat scans were taken, Neil dipped his head to touch his hands, raised in supplication, as he murmured his desperate pleas to any higher being that would listen.

The doctor arrived in a swirl of white lab coats, and the only two words that Neil processed were  _ immediate operation _ . Just like that, the doctor was gone again and Neil was back to his begging. Some man walked by and pressed beads into Neil’s hands and Neil began worrying his fingers over each bead as he prayed to a different deity for each bead his fingers covered.

Later, Neil ould thank Kevin for the history lessons because he was able to get through the rosary four and a half times before he ran out of gods, goddesses, and saints. Kevin would brush it off as nothing, just happy to be able to actually give Neil something in those moments of distress. Neil wouldn’t tell Kevin that after each god, goddess, and saint, Neil spoke to a much darker entity. After he exhausted, what felt like, every name to call on; Neil called on the one name that you’re not supposed to make deals with. He didn’t make a deal, however, he made a promise. A promise that he would storm the fiery gates of hell and kill the devil if he took Andrew from him.

Where he was currently, bargains and promises no longer mattered because the doctor was back. Neil registered  _ went well _ and  _ room 308 _ before he was off sprinting down the hall to see Andrew. When Neil burst into the room, a nurse was fixing Andrew’s drip onto its hook. She gave him a once over before telling Neil it would likely be hours before Andrew woke. That they had put him under general anesthesia. That when he woke he would undoubtedly be in an untold amount of pain. Neil took it all in stride, because someone had heard him and Andrew was there and he was alive.

Later, Nicky would sigh about how cute it would have been for Neil to fall asleep on Andrew’s bedside, just like how it happens in the movies. That he was sure that the moment Andrew woke to see Neil sleeping by his side, his caretaker and vigilant protector, would be the moment that Andrew would know he was in love with Neil. Andrew would roll his eyes and tell Nicky to fuck off. Anyway, both Neil and Andrew would know Nicky was wrong. That moment had come long ago. That didn’t matter though.

Where Neil was currently, there was no time for the restful guardian that filled romance novels. Neil ahd to make the most of every borrowed moment he was sure that he was getting. NEil would be more familiar with Andrew’s appearance than he was with the back of his own hand.

Some time later, the doctor walked in to Neil sitting rigid beside Andrew, holding his right hand in both of his, looking intently at his face. Neil was trying to discern if the movement of Andrew’s eyes under his eyelids was frantic enough to imply that Andrew was having a nightmare; if he was, Neil was going to do everything in his power to get him out of it without undue distress. From what he could tell, the medicine was making Andrew have hours of peaceful sleep.

“Mr. Josten, I presume?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.” Neil responded without looking up.

“There are some things that I would like to talk to you about regarding your—”

“Partner,” Neil supplied, finally looking up at the doctor.

“Yes, of course, I didn’t want to presume. Well, Mr. Minyard here sustained quite the injury to his knee. Most concerning was what is called a comminuted patellar fracture. This is when the top or, in Mr. Minyard’s case, the bottom of the patella is broken into several small pieces. This fracture typically occurs when the kneecap is first pulled apart from the injury, and is then crushed when the patient falls on it. Unfortunately, in a comminuted fracture, the bone fragments are too small to be fixed back into place, so I removed them during surgery. After that, we attached the loose patellar tendon back to the remaining patellar bone.

“However, Mr. Minyard also sustained a fracture in the center of the patella, and the pieces were too separated to hope that they could heal in a cast. I used a combination of wires and screws to repair it. Luckily, we didn’t have to remove all of the kneecap, and I have full confidence that Mr. Minyard will make a recovery. In the weeks following a patellar fracture, Mr. Josten, rehabilitation is crucial if the patient wants to get back to some semblance of normalcy.

“On top of this, Mr. Minyard has suffered a torn ACL. The surgery to fix that was much less invasive than the patellar surgery. Do you have any questions?”

“Yes. What all does this mean for Andrew?” Neil asked, still holding Andrew’s hand.

“What this means for Mr. Minyard, is that he will experience discomfort after prolonged use of the knee. Standing or walking will start to become taxing after a while. With rehabilitation, it is possible to strengthen the knee and ACL, but he will never be able to get back to the level with which he was familiar. With the broken kneecap, he is also at risk for posttraumatic arthritis, muscle weakness, chronic pain, and loss of motion. This loss of motion is rarely ever disabling. It’s as I said, rehabilitation is crucial in the first weeks after a surgery to make sure the knee does not weaken further.”

The doctor walked over to the whiteboard across from the hospital bed and began writing down all the information that Neil would need while he was on his rounds. Information like the name of the head nurse and attending nurse. And just like that, the doctor was gone again, leaving Neil with a sleeping Andrew. He didn’t know how he was supposed to process all of the information that had been supplied to him. There was really only one person that Neil wanted to talk to about this—to discuss how he felt—and they were lying in the bed unconscious.

Neil tapped out a message to Jean and Kevin, asking that they notify the team, the coaches, the PR team, the owners, and all of the foxes. After that, Neil opened his messages with Aaron. The last message was Aaron informing him that Andrew was required to come to his niece’s recital, ordered by the tiny demon herself; and an apology for not being able to watch the game, promising to get it the next day on DVR. Neil didn’t know how he was supposed to tell Andrew’s namesake that her favorite person in the entire world wouldn’t be able to make it to her recital. His fingers hovered over his phone, but he knew from experience, the longer you waited to do something, the worse it got. He typed out a message to Aaron. It was almost midnight, so he probably wouldn’t see the message until morning. That was just fine with Neil. He didn’t really want to talk to anyone right then. He was just going to stand vigil until Andrew woke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment? :)


	3. Time to Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 07-10-2017; edited 03-15-2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason that I have been able to write so much, so quickly, is because of you guys! Your comments have made me WANT to write for the first time in a really long time. It means the world to me. You guys have made me feel so good about my writing that I wrote my first original work ever-I've never written it out before. You guys astound me every day and you mean so much to me. so THANK YOU!

They had been home for a week and a half, and Andrew was hardly back to normal. Neil had expected the frustrations that came along with limited mobility, and he was prepared for a sharp uptick in Andrew’s frustration levels. Andrew never outright complained, but it was evident by the way his face contorted, whenever he was forced to use the slightly too-tall crutches, that he was incensed. Neil was just happy that Andrew was willing to let him help with the little tasks around the house, getting him in and out of the car when he went to physical therapy. What Neil hadn’t been prepared for was the drastic drop in mood.

Neil wasn’t completely insensitive. He knew all about the depressions that came along with a lengthy recovery. He knew that the best cure was getting back to a sense of normalcy as soon as possible. The thing was, Andrew’s recovery was going amazingly. He did everything the surgeon and physical therapist suggested, and just yesterday, the surgeon happily informed them that Andrew would probably only have to walk on crutches for four weeks, out of the four to eight that were typical, but before he was able to move to a cane. Further mobility aid was a safeguard, keeping Andrew from wearing out his knee before it was ready.

Andrew’s doctors understood going from an extremely active lifestyle to one that was mostly sedentary would be extremely difficult for the career athlete. IT wasn’t uncommon for former athletes to push themselves past their new limits in the beginning, trying to force themselves back to their old limits. The can would allow Andrew to be up and moving in slightly longer increments than without. The can wouldn’t magically fix his situation, but it would allow him to take stress off his knee and ACL.

Neil knew that there would be a difference between Andrew before the accident and Andrew after the accident, but Neil’s expectations and the reality were vastly different. Neil knew that during college, Andrew had been court ordered to take antidepressants for his health and the safety of others. Neil also knew how lousy they made Andrew feel—high until he crashed from withdrawals. Neil knew what the crash looked like, and that was what Andrew was experiencing.

Andrew lived off the high of challenges. Whether it be in a game or in his everyday life, there was not a challenge that Andrew was not willing to face down, head-on. This challenge seemed to be insurmountable to Andrew.

Facing drops in mood was something that Neil had been accustomed to in the 12 odd years since college, and never had he felt incapable of helping Andrew face them. Andrew was vocal about his drops in mood. He was comfortable enough to vocalize to Neil that he was feeling low. Andrew wouldn’t refer to himself as depressed, opting to call his dips in mood being ‘pressed’ instead, knowing that Neil would understand him. And Neil did understand him, always, but Neil knew that this was another beast altogether.

This was a deep low, something that was eating away at Andrew from the inside, and there wasn’t anything that he could do to reach him. It was rare that Andrew sunk into himself so deeply like this, but it had happened before. Mostly in the beginning, when Neil and Andrew opened up about their pasts. In their time after Baltimore, especially after college, Neil and Andrew started sharing things about themselves, no holds barred.

Neil had a few theories about why Andrew had dipped so low. The last time Andrew had spent an extended period in the hospital was when he encountered Dr. Proust. The same doctor that Riko had paid off, making sure that Andrew would be mistreated during his stay. Ichirou had allowed Andrew and Neil to take care of the loose ends that his brother had left untied, covering up the subsequent murder of the good doctor.

Neil knew that Andrew would only talk when he was ready and not a moment before, but Neil took every opportunity he could to remind Andrew of all the things that they had faced together in the past. As the weeks wore on, Andrew became more receptive to conversation from Neil, but still was only putting in just enough effort to keep Neil at the same level of anxiousness as the weeks passed.

Neil wished that it could be enough. He wished that he was fine with letting Andrew be a muted version of himself. Let Andrew be, however he needed to be, but Neil couldn’t. When Neil hovered over Andrew, hands wringing, and Andrew whacked his legs with his cane before planting a kiss on Neil’s forehead, Neil had hoped that perhaps Andrew was warming up to being himself again. Like clockwork, Andrew would perk up before getting a wistful look in his eye and retreating to their bedroom. Their cats Pancake and Kitchen Sink would curl up on Andrew’s back, and Neil would prod their big-footed puppy, Bookshelf, into the bedroom to snuggle up to Andrew’s side. The only sign of life was the hand that stuck out of the blanket to drape over Bookshelf and the slow rise and fall of Pancake and Kitchen Sink moving with his breathing.

Andrew was lost in an abyss in his mind, a prison of his own making, and Neil didn’t know how he was supposed to reach Andrew if nothing from a decade of sharing everything with someone wasn’t enough to make it work. A younger Neil might have decided to wait for it to play out, letting Andrew be, knowing that he knew best, but Neil wasn’t that naive young man anymore.

Neil dug Andrew’s beat up address book out of the catch-all drawer in the kitchen and started flipping until he found the name he was looking for:  _ Dr. Bumblebee _ . Neil snorted. It was time he called Betsey Dobson.


	4. Carry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned that there are some hard conversations about Andrew's past, but I think they handle it mostly well. There's also sex.  
> I know that there are some things in this chapter that will make you uncomfortable because they're not pretty. And I'm not going to pretend that everyone reading an explicit fic is 18 (though I wish you would wait, I wished I had waited). But, that's why it's even more important for me to portray Andrew as not being as abled as he was before. Sometimes, accidents happen and you lose mobility or you can't do the things you used to. It's depressing as fuck—and as someone, who at 7 years old, had to watch her mother slowly deteriorate and bear the shame of sitting to go down the stairs, not once looking me in the eye, I know just how ugly disability can be. When there are hurdles that I am not physically able to cross, there is this cloying sense of shame, and I want you to see it. I want the people who lived it to see it. I want the people who saw it lived, see it. I want the people who are 100% able-bodied to see it, because sooner rather than later, you're going to face it yourself, and I want you to know to love them, let them have their dignity, and never pity them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, you can thank @foxsoulcourt for this chapter because I got so many lovely comments on my writing today, or well, it's yesterday now. Who knew that the girl who requires constant external validation would lose all will to write once she deleted her blog where she got nice messages and nice tags every day LOL. I sound like a snob.
> 
> Anyway, I'm a little insecure about this chapter because I haven't written something like this before? Let me know how I did.
> 
> Love you and I hope to update my other things soon xx

_ Hi, this is Betsey, I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave a detailed message I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks! _

“Hi Bee, this is Neil Josten. I’m sorry to be calling you so late, I just wasn’t sure who to turn to. I know that Andrew hasn’t been your client since college, but I know that he still talks to you and I was wondering if we could meet up to possibly talk about his recovery. You can text me or call me at this number. I look forward to hearing from you. Bye.”

Neil placed the address book back where he found it before heading back into this bedroom to check on Andrew showered and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, baby, how are you feeling?”

“Neil, yes or no?” Andrew asked in a low voice.

“Yes, of course, Andrew. It’s always yes. What is it babe?” Neil walked forward to frame Andrew’s face with his palms. He had never looked delicate to Neil, but the dark shadows under his hazel eyes, marred with a sleepless bloodshot haze, Andrew looked only slightly better than he had looked lying unconscious in the hospital.

Andrew looked miserably up at Neil. “I want you to make love to me. Yes or no?”

Neil fisted his hand in the back of Andrew’s hair. “Yes, love. I haven’t stretched myself in awhile. I need to run to the corner store and get lube, okay?” He pet Andrew’s cowlicks down gently. His heart went out to Andrew. The doctor mentioned possible insecurities that could crop up their first few times being intimate, what with Andrew’s new handicap, but Neil couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t want to worship this man—showing him just how much Neil would always want him.

Neil was half-hard thinking about riding Andrew and being so close to him again, but another part of him was worried if Andrew was mentally ready to go there. Neil knew that Andrew would never come to him unless he was certain that he could handle it. Some of their hardest truths had come out after Andrew had gentled Neil in his arms after an orgasm. He had most recently paid the bill for Andrew’s card, so it made the most sense for him to take Andrew’s wallet to the store, which he had placed in the corner of the cupboard over the breakfast bar—

Andrew yanked Neil from his thoughts. “No, Neil. I want you to fuck me.” Andrew put extra emphasis on the pronouns and Neil froze where he was crowding Andrew, rubbing his lips over the little curl on his forehead that never straightened.

“‘Drew, what?”

Andrew stiffened. “It’s a yes or no, Neil. Simple as that.”

Neil immediately dropped to his knees so he was looking up at Andrew. His partner on and off the court. In life and in love. Andrew looked so miserable. Neil’s heart ached to look at him. He felt exactly how he felt the day that they went to adopt Kitchen Sink and he caught sight of the saddest little puppy he had ever seen. His heart had dropped in the same way that day, and just like he did now, he had dropped to his knees in front of the kennel, refusing to move until the unwanted, wobbly puppy was in his arms. Andrew had complained that they weren’t dog people, but caved when Neil promised they would call any animal, from then on, whatever Andrew wanted. That was the day that Bookshelf came home with them.

Andrew wasn’t a puppy with a neurological condition that left him wobbly. Neil couldn’t pick him up and place him inside his jacket to keep him warm as he carried him to the vet. But much like Bookshelf, Neil would get Andrew a sling to help him stay standing when they went walking if he had to, and Neil had full faith that, just like Bookshelf, with love and encouragement, Andrew could find his footing again.

The issue was, it was so much easier with puppies; their emotions and thought processes much closer to that of a toddler—as opposed to a full grown man. Bookshelf’s abuse left him physically impaired, but Andrew’s was much deeper and sinister. Current physical ailments aside, Andrew was dealing with the emotional, psychological, sexual, and physical trauma from his youth. While Neil knew most of what had happened to Andrew, and could sympathize based off what he experienced growing up, there was nothing in the world that could take him to the place that Andrew had been all those years ago.

The anxious look on Andrew’s face is what decided Neil’s next words. “I would be honored to love you in any and every way you could ever need, Andrew.” Andrew wasn’t making eye contact with NEil, so Neil softly moved his chin until Andrew was looking at him.

“This isn’t a step we’ve taken,” Neil said. Andrew opened his mouth to speak but Neil continued speaking before he could. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ve been in this apartment for how long, and four months ago was the first time I tried a fluffernutter—”

Andrew snorted. “Definitely not the same.”

“Nothing could ever be quite as violently disgusting as a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich, I agree, but the point is, we’re taking new steps together every single day. And if this is a step you want to take today, tomorrow, ten years down the road, or never, it’s a step that I’m going to take with you. If the first bite leaves you with a sick taste, we can and will stop, and if you decide to try it again and it sits heavy in your stomach halfway through, you can quit and never go back again. I happen to think that strawberry spread is good enough, but maybe you have a taste for both.

“I think I muddled up my metaphor,” Neil said.

Andrew rolled his eyes in response, still not quite ready to speak or even repeat his request.

“I’m horrible at food metaphors, my love, but if you decide to try what you think is going to be a shit sandwich, then I’m going to be right by your side, shoveling that shit in with you. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad, but we do it together, ok?”

Andrew closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Neil’s. “You don’t think it’s disgusting of me to want it, do you?”

Neil blew a raspberry. “The only disgusting thing you do, Andrew, is not flush after you shit.”

“I was trying to conserve water!” And there was the mischief that Neil had gotten so used to seeing in his lover’s eyes.

“That’s just for piss and you know it!”

They held each other close for a moment before Andrew spoke again. “Would you be willing to try it now?”

Neil squinted at Andrew, calculating. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion before kissing ANdrew on the forehead. “I’m still going to get lube, and you’re going to sit in the car with me because I’m not going to have you sit here and worry yourself to death.” Neil hauled him up, taking all the weight off his bad knee. “When did you become such an old man anyway? If you’re planning on becoming Byronic, just know that I’ll never propose.”

* * *

 

“Got it!” Neil huffed, dropping into the car.

“The other one was bike lube,” Andrew said, biting back a grin. Neil didn’t comment on how good it was to see a smile on Andrew’s face, even if it was a result of Neil pretending to be a dumbass.

Neil laughed. “It did say lube on it!”

“Mhmm, yes it did.”

Neil pulled the dog treats out of the bag and tossed them to Andrew. He was sitting in the passenger seat with Bookshelf in his lap. As they drove home they kept up the banter and baby-talk that Bookshelf seemed to adore.

* * *

 

“Can I kiss you? Yes or no?” Neil asked. He kicked Pancake out of their bedroom and shut the door.

“Yes.” Andrew’s response was immediate.

Neil leaned forward to place his lips on Andrew’s. Andrew grunted and snatched up Neil’s hand, with the hand that wasn’t on his cane, and pulled it up to his face. Neil got the message and brought both hands up to frame Andrew’s face.

His hands didn’t stay there though. They roamed over Andrew’s shoulders and down his arms, careful to stop at his elbow; it hadn’t been a problem place for Andrew in years but Neil was treating this entire encounter as entirely new, letting Andrew lead. Andrew slowly walked backward until his back thudded against the bedroom door—sending the animals lying on the other side scrambling—taking his weight off his knee. When Neil started licking and sucking a fiery path down his throat, Andrew started gasping like a drowning man, dropping his cane.

“Neil—” was all he managed.

Neil understood though. He pulled himself away from Andrew and got his shoulder under his arms, taking the weight off Andrew’s bad knee, helping him to their bed. Andrew had a pained look on his face, but the distress in his eyes let Neil know that it had nothing to do with his knee.

“Yes or no?” Neil asked, glancing at Andrew.

Andrew nodded once in response.

Neil straddled Andrew’s waist, prodding him to sit up just enough that Neil could rip off his shirt, before allowing him to lay back down. Neil took a minute to take in Andrew’s body. He was slightly gaunt around the edges, but he was still so strong. He didn’t let a fucked up knee or a torn ACL keep him down. Neil was so in awe of him, so he told Andrew.

“God, you’re so amazing. Just looking at you gets me hot.”

“Shut the fuck up, Junkie,” Andrew grunted.

Neil plastered himself to Andrew’s front, so he could get back to sucking wet kisses into Andrew’s throat.

“I don’t care how much you call me that. You’re so fucking hot. Even for an old geezer who wears cardigans covered in cat hair when he goes out.”

Andrew was already breathless. “Don’t—fucking call me old—fuck Neil, fuck yes.”

“Yeah,” Neil said into the hollow of Andrew’s throat. He moved his thigh between Andrew’s legs and pressed against Andrew’s dick.

“Jesus fuck,” Andrew groaned.

“I always wanted to know Jesus’ last name,” Neil said.

Andrew laughed. “Just get naked, you moron.”

Neil stripped faster than he ever had in his life, worried that Andrew’s mind would go through the wrong door if he was away too long. Andrew called him a Junkie again, but Neil didn’t mind because if Andrew was calling him that it meant that Andrew was entirely present.

Neil went back to kissing across Andrew’s collarbones. Occasionally hissing when Andrew’s cotton clad thigh brushed against his sensitive dick. His hands went to hover over Andrew’s waistband, but before he could get out the question, Andrew had stiffened minutely before forcing himself to go lax against the bed. Neil didn’t comment on it, sensing that Andrew definitely didn’t want it brought up, and skimmed his hands up his ribs. Andrew shivered at the touch, and Neil rolled off him, not wanting to be the weight holding him down.

Neil just laid on his side and looked at the long, blond lashes that he knew got caught on Andrew’s glasses every time he blinked. He reached a finger out and traced it under Andrew’s eye socket. He loved this man.

“We can stop any time—I think exy is on.”

The mention of exy made Andrew’s eyes go dark, then he made a decision. He shucked off his sweatpants, making Neil choke on his tongue when his cock sprang free.

“How long have you not been wearing shorts?” Neil groaned.

“Since the accident,” Andrew said. “Just more things to step into.”

Neil slapped his hands over his eyes and fisted himself, willing away his orgasm. He didn’t open them until he felt Andrew moving around on the bed. When Neil opened his eyes, Andrew had two pillows stacked under his hips.

“What are you doing?” Neil asked.

“I can’t get on my knees, obviously.” Andrew’s voice was tremulous.

“Andrew Minyard, get the fuck up,” Neil ordered, his voice tight.

Andrew was gritting his teeth so hard that Neil thought his jaw would crack, but he got up gingerly, being careful of his knee.

“What?” Andrew asked. “Not good enough to fuck?” He wouldn’t look at Neil.

Neil’s hackles dropped immediately and sighed. He crowded Andrew the way he had learned Andrew liked, but Andrew stayed stiff in his arms. He eventually leaned back, accepting that Andrew didn’t want to be comforted by him.

“I’m just confused as to why you think I want to get you underneath me?” Neil asked.

Andrew straightened at his tone. “How else would you fuck me?” he asked, voice petulant.

“Now I know that you’ve gotten creative enough to know that there are other positions.”

“You have working knees, Nathaniel.”

Neil flinched but steeled himself immediately.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean that. Neil let’s just—I understand not wanting me...there. Just because I didn’t say no doesn’t mean you can’t. That was a dick move. I didn’t mean it.”

“You did.” Neil’s voice was hard. “You did mean it. You said it and you wanted to hurt me because you’re hurt, too. Well, congratulations, now we’re both hurt. I don’t need to stoop to that level. I understand you’re hurting. I understand you’re not ready to talk to me, but you’re not going to tell me to fuck you and then act like a child.”

“I asked.”

Neil laughed before sitting up and crossing his legs. “You’re not going to be a petulant baby right now. I’ve babied you long enough Andrew Minyard, and right now, you’re going to listen to me.”

Andrew looked remorseful. Neil almost apologized and said it didn’t matter, but then he remembered the dead-eyed look Andrew had in his eyes for too long. Neil would rather Andrew be pissed at him than apathetic. He wasn’t going to stop.

“If you’re trying to punish yourself, I’m not going to help you abuse yourself. And I sure as fuck am not going to allow you to let me subjugate you like that. ‘I won’t you let me be like them.’ Do you remember saying that to me?”

Andrew was silent.

“Huh? Well do you?”

The answer yes was so quiet, Neil almost didn’t hear it over his harsh breathing.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Andrew.” He said fuck like it was a disease. “You asked me to make love to you. That is something I am willing to agree to, but I’m not going to get on top of you and fuck you into the bed. That’s not what either of us wants.

“Andrew, baby, I love you, but I’m not going to allow you to use me to hurt yourself.”

Andrew’s eyes were glassy. “You don’t get it,” he finally said after some time.

The fight drained out of Neil at the hopelessness in his voice.

“Hey, look at me. I’m not going to understand unless you tell me what’s going on.”

“Exy is over,” Andrew said and the tears finally spilled over. “It was the one thing—” his voice broke. “It was the one thing that I had in my life that finally gave me my family. There’s nothing without it. I just wanted to forget.”

The tears were spilling in earnest now and Neil swooped in to curl himself around Andrew. He didn’t tell Andrew not to cry. He didn’t shush him or tell him it would be okay. Neil just held him. They didn’t speak while Andrew cried himself out. Neil didn’t even try to interrupt him once while he finally released everything he had been holding onto.

Neil just kept holding Andrew while he shook in his arms. The cats scratched at the door and Neil was certain that Bookshelf had probably peed on the floor, but right then, nothing else mattered but the heartbroken man in his arms.

Neil knew about the fear that clung tight to your chest when, what you thought was, the only thing giving you something was gone. So he held Andrew close to his heart and let him cry until he had no tears left to shed, and then he just held him in silence until Andrew was ready to talk to him. Neil didn’t mind as the hours passed and the sun set, he would wait weeks, months, years for Andrew.

When Andrew stopped sniffing, Neil looked down to realize that he had finally given into his exhaustion. That was okay. Neil would hold him all night and stay up to keep the demons at bay.

* * *

 

During the night, Neil had text Kevin to come get their animals, because he couldn’t fathom pulling himself away from Andrew, even if he was asleep. Kevin eventually came in and put them all in carriers before ferrying them and their supplies out of the apartment. Awhile after it was all silent again, Kevin text him to tell him that the curtains were shredded and Bookshelf shat on the rug but he cleaned it up. Neil thanked him and turned off his phone. The rest of the world could wait.

When the gray dawn started to filter in through the curtains, Andrew started mumbling in his sleep; a sure sign that he was waking. Neil was frankly surprised that Andrew hadn’t woken with nightmares in the night. Maybe he had cried himself into a dreamless, and nightmareless, sleep.

Finally, as the room was filled with morning light, Andrew sucked in a huge breath through his nose. He chuckled as the  _ whoosh _ of air tickled his neck, and when he looked down, Andrew was blinking owlishly up at him. He looked entirely confused and Neil leaned down to kiss his nose. After a good crying jag, he had woken up feeling hungover a number of times.

He peppered Andrew’s face with soft kisses as he slowly blinked himself into awareness. When Andrew’s erection pressed into Neil’s bare leg, he pulled himself out of Neil’s arms, embarrassed, but Neil chased him back and snuggled Andrew back down into the bed. He slowly rubbed the embarrassment and shame out of Andrew, as he slowly gentled him down from the night before.

When Andrew buried his face in Neil’s neck, Neil started to hum, hoping the vibrations would help soothe Andrew more. Andrew only pressed his lips to Neil’s throat in response, keeping them there to feel his voice.

Eventually, Andrew cleared the sleep out of his throat to speak. “I’m not sure what came over me last night.”

“That was the dam breaking on your emotions,” Neil told him simply, kissing his forehead.

“I’m so—”

“Don’t apologize for feeling, Andrew. We all feel.”

“For what I said then.”

Neil smiled into the top of Andrew’s hair. “You were forgiven for anything you could do to me a long time ago, but if it will make you feel better—I forgive you. I hope that next time you won’t hide how you feel from me.”

Andrew grunted as if to say ‘no promises.’

They lay there in the sun for awhile longer, Neil running his fingers across Andrew’s back in random patterns. Eventually they heard the front door open and Andrew looked up to Neil in confusion.

Neil threw the sheets over Andrew and slipped on a pair of boxer shorts. He told Andrew that he had text Kevin earlier that morning if he could keep the animals for another day and asked him to bring them breakfast. Neil went to meet Kevin at the bedroom door.

Kevin had a takeaway bag clutched in one hand and coffee’s in the other. He looked at Neil like he knew that Neil hadn’t slept at all through the night. Before he passed over the food he asked lowly, “You guys good?”

Neil gave him a tight smile and said, “We will be. Don’t worry.”

Kevin nodded and grabbed the dog leash off the hook before heading out the front door, locking it behind him.

Neil turned back in their room to see Andrew sitting up against the headboard, looking miserable.

“You should have told him what I said to you.”

“Andrew, I’m not going to have a conversation with anyone about last night until we have a conversation about last night. Besides, Kevin is bad at being comforting, I would tell Matt first.”

Andrew nodded morosely. “He’s better. He would try to fight me.”

“Oh my god, Drew. You’re acting like you rivaled Lola last night when you really didn’t.” He passed Andrew the coffees before climbing up on the bed.

“Did I not?” Andrew asked.

“No! You really didn't. You were frustrated—and, yeah, you really acted like a fucking dickhead, but I cornered you and you lashed out. I wasn’t an angel last night either. If we’re going to be wearing a blanket of shame, we share the blanket so you need to let me under it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Andrew said.

“Nor I you,” Neil said. “We’re going to eat this food and slowly drink all of this coffee, and then, and only then, will we have a conversation about last night. Before we eat though, you need to know that I do not blame you and I love you and if you need forgiving; I forgive you entirely.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but let Neil scoot up on the bed next to Andrew. As they ate, their arms became linked and they picked at one another’s food. So they could eat and drink at the same time, Neil set the second coffee on the nightstand next to him and they passed the first back and forth while they ate. While Neil drank coffee, Andrew would press sticky, cinnamon kisses to his shoulder and face.

When all of the food and both coffees were gone, they lazily traded coffee and sticky bun flavored kisses. Every time Andrew’s hands drifted towards Neil’s shorts, he would snatch up his hand and place it somewhere else on his body.

Eventually, Andrew resigned himself to the fact he couldn’t distract Neil out of the conversation, and informed Neil he was going to piss and then they could talk.

“All right. Hope on, I’ll piggyback you.”

“Neil, I’m naked. You’re not giving me a naked piggyback to the bathroom.”

“No, you’re right. A piggyback is a shit idea because it will put stress on your knee.” And before Andrew could protest, Neil picked him up bridal style and carried him into the bathroom as if they were still in college and Andrew was thirty pounds lighter.

Andrew sat on the toilet and gave the new handrails installed the evil eye. Neil had them installed after Andrew’s knee locked up and he fell trying to stand and piss. Typically if Neil was in the bathroom, Andrew endured the prick of embarrassment sitting gave him because he preferred it over Neil possibly giving him sad eyes after looking at Andrew’s white knuckled grip on the handrail.

Neil just silently handed him a toothbrush and head back into the bedroom to bring him his cane before grabbing clean sheets out of the linen cupboard and heading back into the bedroom. He had a pet peeve of sleeping on sheets that had crumbs on them, and with how frequently Andrew ate in bed and how infrequently they did laundry, they had about six sets of sheets.

When Andrew came out of the bathroom, Neil directed him over to the small loveseat against the wall and away from the bed. They had made a rule early on that disagreements wouldn’t be had in bed and neither of them would go to bed angry—they would go sit in the loveseat and scream their hearts out until they got it all out.

Andrew leant the cane against the wall and once he sat, Neil pulled his feet up into his lap to rub while they talked. They had come a long way since college and they had gotten a lot better at communicating, even though they clearly weren’t perfect still.

“I guess I should start,” Andrew said. When Neil gave him and encouraging gesture he continued, “Obviously, this accident has taken a toll on me—the physical is clear, but I guess the part I didn’t tell you is that, well, exy gave me a family when I didn’t have one. And I took it for granted, because that’s what every dumbass kid does. Only know, the thing that gave me my family has been taken away.”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s ankles. “I ignored your graduation for a long time; three years if I’m being honest. Andrew, I found a family in you and I couldn’t believe that you, and everyone else, were going to graduate because that meant my family was going to leave me. I was a little shitstain, and eventually, you knocked me to my senses.

“You let me know that just because my family was graduating, they weren't leaving me, too. That you weren’t leaving me. I hate to use your own words to comfort you here, but you only lost the ability to be a goalie, not the ability to have a family. You hate every single person on our team, and it’s mutual, but every single one of you would die for one another. Andrew, I’d say that’s family to me.”

“You’re making it seem like it’s so easy.”

“Baby, the hard part is the rehab for your knee. Getting along with your family is the hard part, but family is always family once you have the right one. You could take up underwater basket weaving and they would still fight anyone who gave you shit. They love you so much. I love you so much.”

Andrew just closed his eyes and let the words wash over him.

“I know you’re not the most verbose person in the world, and I know that it’s not going to be as easy as— _ snap _ —that to accept my words to be true. It’s going to be a process that our teammates, your brother, and I are going to be with you on for the long haul.”

Andrew reached out and squeezed Neil’s hand.

“Now, what I’m interested in talking about is what was going on last night. What were you trying to accomplish?” Neil asked.

Andrew sighed. “Can we leave it at—I don’t know?”

Neil raised an eyebrow.

“No. All right. Didn’t think so. You have been...attentive...through all of this, and when we agreed to be together, you didn’t agree to take care of a partner who would have to go through rehabilitation before their fortieth birthday; or regress somehow after surgery, waking up having pissed the bed nearly every day for a week; or a partner who can’t even stand to use the toilet.”

“Drew, you’re making it sound like a business arrangement. ‘In exchange for living with me and sticking it in my ass once a week, you have to reach these ideal standards I have in a partner.’ And that’s just not how it is.”

“Isn’t it though?” Andrew asked, hoarse.

“It really isn’t. I’m here—with you—for one reason: I want to be,” Neil said.

“See, that’s the thing though! You’re just so...good to me, and I want that. I want all of that. I want whatever that means for me, and I want everything with you because I love you so much. I can’t tell you that though, because that’s not what you say. ‘Hey, you’re a cool boyfriend, please put it in my butt even though I’m super traumatized.’ Like, how the fuck would you have responded, Neil?” Andrew was getting heated.

Neil matched his fervor. “A lot better than I did when you sprung it on me without warning, I’ll tell you that much, Andrew. If you want to play the name game we can. If you want to vent your frustrations for what your body is going through, by all means let’s do it! But don’t you think for a hot second that I don’t want you to tell me, in the most explicit way possible, what’s going on with you.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘Hey, babe, uh, being put under from surgery really fucked my body up somehow. Now I’m pissing the bed and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but shit the way that you take care of me makes me hot, even though the bed is cold.’? Seriously, Neil, what the fuck?”

“Oh my fucking god, you moron. No, that’s not how you’d say it,” Neil said.

“‘Oh, love of mine, when you held me in your arms after I fell in the bathroom and pissed myself, I realized how much I love you and that I want to give myself to you fully. Let’s consummate our relationship.’” Andrew sarcastically fluttered his eyes.

“Now you’re just taking the piss—”

“Really, a pun?” Andrew asked monotonously.

“Okay, but to be serious. You don’t have to ‘give yourself to me fully’ or whatever so that I feel like taking care of you is worth it. I can’t even selfishly say that it’s insurance that you’ll take care of me when I’m the one that needs taking care of all the time. Andrew, I do it because I love you and I want to. You could piss the bed every day for the rest of our lives and I would still want you. I never wanted you because you were perfect. I just wanted you because you were Andrew,” Neil said honestly.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me cry again.” Andrew tilted his head back.

“You can make a joke about golden showers if you think it will make you feel better about this,” Neil offered.

“I knew I shacked up with a pervert.” Andrew snorted.

“There’s my happy man!” Neil crowed with delight.

“I still want you to fuck me,” Andrew said.

“And I still don’t ever want you to call it that,” Neil retorted.

“Make love to me, oh love of mine,” Andrew cooed breathily.

“Why, it would be my honor,” Neil said with his best southern debutante accent. When he went to pick Andrew up, Andrew whacked Neil with his cane and told him to fuck off, but it just made Neil kiss him.

Once they get on the bed, Neil dives across Andrew for the lube. Andrew groans when he hears the cap flip open and he tenses in anticipation for what’s to come. When Neil’s slick finger traces his taint and he hears ‘yes or no’ he quickly says yes like he’s expecting himself to change his mind. Neil presses in to his first knuckle and Andrew grunts. Once the muscle is relaxed enough, Neil pushes in to the second and then the third knuckle. Andrew’s grunts sound like they’re being ripped out of him.

“You have the prettiest cock in the world, Andrew.”

“Fuck.”

Neil pulls his finger all the way out and Andrew snarls epithets as he clenches the fresh sheets.

“I’m sorry, I just—” And then Neil drops to his belly and tries to shove his tongue in Andrew’s ass as deep as his finger had gone.

Andrew wails and nearly arches up into a backbend before Neil can grab him by the hips and yank him down and closer to his face. Neil eats him out with gusto, leaning back a few times to spit and make Andrew wetter. When Neil reintroduces his finger and starts looking for his prostate, Andrew sobs, while Neil licks around his finger. When Andrew’s breathing changes, Neil adds a second finger and starts rubbing at his prostate like he’s running a race.

Andrew fists his hand in Neil’s hair and yanks, making Neil moan into him. Neil adds a third finger and Andrew freezes. Neil looks up at him with his mouth and chin covered in spit and lube.

“I’m gonna come, you have to stop,” Andrew forces out.

“Oh,” Neil said simply, as he continued to fuck Andrew out with his fingers. When Andrew yanked on his hair again Neil just said, “I know, I know, sheesh.” And then he grabbed Andrew’s shaft and gagged himself on his dick.

“Oh Jesus fucking christ.” Andrew started yelling wordlessly, clenching his fingers in the sheets and Neil’s hair, but never once lifting his hips into Neil.

Neil gags before sliding himself off Andrew with a cough, spit and precome trailing from his lips to the head of Andrew’s dick. Andrew’s eyes snap shut as Neil chirped, “Well, if you’re going to come I’d like you to do it in my mouth. Besides, you’re not fucking me anyway.” Before swallowing Andrew down again and tugging on his balls.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Andrew yelled the last one as he came. Neil made a shocked noise before backing off so he could swallow around the head of Andrew’s dick. When Andrew was sensitive enough that he started whimpering, Neil pulled off all the way and gave little kitten licks up the side, cleaning him off before gently laying him against his stomach.

“Neil that was—fuck.”

“I know,” Neil hummed, his voice sounded like he just had his throat fucked.

“I want you inside me,” Andrew groaned.

“You sure?” Neil asked, rising up on his knees, cock jutting out against his stomach.

“No—yes, maybe?”

“I’m not going to do anything until that’s a definite yes, but why don’t we figure out a position that’s comfortable for you and then you can decide.”

Andrew just nodded, laying there bonelessly, while Neil manipulated him. When he opened his eyes, he and Neil were sitting up face to face; he was straddling Neil’s lap and his legs were sprawled out on either side of Neil. In this position he was the same height as Neil, he didn’t feel small or vulnerable at all. He actually felt like he was a sex god and Neil was about to lay offerings at his alter. He was surprised by how powerful he felt and equally surprised at how not scared that made him feel. He knew that sex was intrinsically tied to power, but he never assumed that by relinquishing control he could feel like he was the more powerful one.

Neil couldn’t move beneath Andrew, but Andrew knew that he would never take advantage of a weakness of Neil’s. All of his worries melted away and when Neil asked, “Yes or no?” He was able to respond with an enthusiastic yes.

When Neil rolled on a condom he looked at Andrew and said, “That’s called enthusiastic consent and I will only ever make love to you when I have it.”

Andrew nodded and tapped Neil’s biceps, urging him on, without his legs underneath him he wasn’t able to lift himself up and impale himself on Neil’s dick. Neil got the message though and quickly covered his dick in lube before he lifted Andrew by the hips and slowly dropped him back down on his cock.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah baby,” Neil agreed, kissing him before lifting him back up again and dropping him.

They eventually found a rhythm. Andrew couldn’t lift himself with the way Neil had his legs positioned, but he could bear down on Neil and swivel his hips. Neil went so deep in this position and Andrew felt like he was touching his soul—fuck, Neil really had a long cock.

Andrew’s favorite part though was watching Neil’s arms flex as he lifted Andrew and fucked him down on his dick. He was never this close to Neil when he fucked him, and he liked that he was able to reach out and touch his nipples or kiss his face whenever he wanted to.

The slow slide of Neil against his prostate made Andrew slowly get hard again, and Neil kept fucking him. Andrew just looked at him, covered in sweat and lifting him; Andrew was so so gay.

“Fuck, Neil, I’m close again,” Andrew swore.

“Get the lube,” Neil said, clipped. Andrew assumed it was became he was trying not to come himself. When Andrew leaned forward to grab the lube by his legs, the angle changed; Andrew cussed a blue streak a mile wide and Neil laughed and told him to jerk himself off.

Andrew uncapped the lube and just dumped it between them because he didn’t have the dexterity or brain power to do anything better than that. The slapping of skin took on a sloppy squelching sound and it made Neil moan.

Andrew was definitely so gay. He fisted himself and came on Neil’s chest after a few strokes. Neil fucked him through it. When Andrew wrapped himself around Neil and tried to pull him down on top of him, Neil grunted out, “Don’t put me on top of you.”

Andrew thought he would be okay but he understood that was Neil’s limit, so he pushed Neil back instead and rose up on his knees. He tested it out and his bad knee only gave dull twinge, he couldn’t last like this but he could make Neil come. He started fucking himself on Neil and Neil immediately came, crying out Andrew’s name.

Andrew pulled himself off of Neil and Neil whimpered, but he kissed Neil’s eyelids and laid down with his head on his chest. He stayed there until Neil started petting his back. Eventually, they would have to get up and clean off. Neil would have to change the sheets, again, and Andrew would have to take pain pills for his knee. But for right then they were just Andrew and Neil and nothing else in the world mattered. Neil started kissing everywhere he could reach on Andrew without moving, trying to press his love for Andrew into his skin with his lips.

When the phone rang, Andrew said, “Ignore it.”

“It could be important. Bookshelf could have had an episode,” Neil worried.

Neil answered the phone and put it on speaker.  _ Hi Neil, this is Bee Dobson. Sorry for just now returning your call. _ Andrew raised his eyebrow.  _ I would love to meet up for dinner tonight or tomorrow to talk about Andrew. _ Andrew raised the other eyebrow.

“Hi, Bee, yes that sounds great; tomorrow? And would you mind if Andrew came?”

Andrew swiped his fingers through the mess he made on Neil’s chest and mouthed, “I already did.” Neil swatted at him.

_ That would be great! I haven’t heard from him since the accident. It will be good to catch up. I’ll see you two then! Bye now. _

“What was that about?” Andrew asked.

“I didn’t know how to take care of you,” Neil said, tightening his grip on Andrew.

“We lost our rhythm for a second there, but I think we got it back. Who knew talking fixed things?”

“Yeah, who knew?” Neil stuck out his tongue. He was still worried but he was sure that things were on the mend. Maybe Bee had some suggestions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a marathon writing sesh. 4 hours. ~7,000 words and ~15 pages (not double spaced). my little fingers is broke


End file.
